and my cousins Isabelle and James.
They rolled their suitcases across the gravel and into my grandmother’s small wooden house, filling it with perfume, cologne, and the faint chemical smell of dry-cleaned fabric. Their car—Leon’s pride and joy—sat in front of the house, gleaming under the Southern sun, a shiny black SUV with leather seats and a chrome grille.
En el interior, la atmósfera se sentía desde el principio.
Todo el mundo era demasiado alegre, demasiado ruidoso. Mi padre se decidió por el sofá junto a mi abuela, tomando su